Pages

The other night, I randomly decided that it would be a good idea to watch a horror movie. For some reason, I thought that everything would turn out okay even though I hadn't watched a horror movie in years exactly because nothing is ever okay after I watch a horror movie.

But on that night, for no particular reason, I felt like I could handle it.

Immediately after I turned off the TV, a feeling of apprehension welled up inside of me. I could feel my psyche organizing what I had just seen into a highlight reel that will be freely embellished by my own imagination and then called upon to torture me for the rest of my life. It will be dredged up over and over, turning innocuous everyday occurrences into terrifying threats against my survival. Every noise that is not immediately identifiable will make me think that there's something in my house that is trying to kill me.

I know that this is what will happen because it has happened before. In hindsight, there was absolutely no reason to believe that it would not happen. But for some unknown reason, I ignored a lifetime's worth of cautionary evidence and pranced merrily onward into the unavoidable consequences.

Blind optimism and impulsivity often cause me to ignore logic and instead make decisions based on a hopeful projection of what's going to happen next. It's like I forget everything I've ever learned about the things that generally don't end well when I do them. And then I'm somehow surprised when things don't happen the way I expected.

Take dancing, for example. Despite hours spent watching instructional YouTube videos, I still lack the ability to move my body in a way that does not resemble a structurally unsound robot.

But then I go somewhere where people are dancing. I join in and, at first, I just try to keep it simple.

But after a little while, I get tired of repeating the same dance moves. I start wanting to try something new. This is when that little bit of blind optimism creeps in and makes me believe, deep down in the very core of my being, that not only am I capable of shaking it like Beyoncé, but that is exactly what I should be doing.

But something about the move I've just attempted feels "off."

This is usually the point at which I am abruptly snapped out of my fantasy where I am graceful and sensual, into reality where my body is contorted into a vaguely gargoyle-like shape.

I am immediately filled with shame and regret.

I begin to wonder why I would ever assume that I was capable of making my body do what I had pictured it doing. My coordination is questionable even while performing simple tasks like walking or putting food in my mouth. In college, I took a dance class and at the end of the year, the only thing my teacher wrote on my evaluation was "Allie tries hard." Nothing I have ever done would indicate that I have the potential to dance like Beyoncé. But I didn't consider that.

Another thing that almost always ends in direct contrast to how I had imagined is singing while other people are present.

One time I went on a road trip with my college roommate, Julie. I really liked Julie and I desperately wanted her to like me back, but she was quite judgmental and there is a lot about me to judge, so our time together was usually just a series of tense moments in which I tried my hardest to escape judgment long enough to win Julie's approval.

We had just left town, the sun was setting, the windows were down, the radio was playing and I was suddenly overcome with the desire to be a part of a montage-worthy car-singing duet. In my head, it was the perfect opportunity to bond with Julie.

I decided it would be a good idea to just start singing enthusiastically in order to get the ball rolling on fulfilling this pointless fantasy of mine.

It soon became clear that Julie did not wish to participate in this potentially idyllic moment. My enthusiasm imploded, leaving behind a black hole of awkwardness and insecurity.

But I knew that if I stopped singing and just sat in silence, it would alert Julie to the fact that I was feeling awkward and insecure. I had to pretend that I was unaware of the awkwardness I'd caused. I had to keep singing.

I mumbled the rest of the song quietly, turning my head toward the window to give the illusion that the sudden reduction in volume was due to the sound waves being impeded by my head and not because I was embarrassed.

This discrepancy between the way I imagine things unfolding and how they actually happen is most dramatic when I overestimate my ability to perform a pointless feat of athleticism. I'll walk past a low-hanging branch and be struck with an irresistible desire to see if I can jump up and touch it with my face. I'll see something heavy lying on the ground and suddenly need to know if I can pick it up. There are absolutely no tangible benefits to doing these things, but the consequences are often significant.

As I'm lying there, crumpled and broken from my most recent attempt at meaningless success, I feel complete bewilderment at the motivation behind what I just did. There was no point. I'm sure that the decision was based on some scrap of reasoning, but in retrospect it seems that chaos and unbridled impulsivity just collided randomly to produce a totally unexplainable action with no benefit and all consequences.

So.. the moral of the story is: Dance like nobody's watching when no-one really IS watching? And if at all possible do this to scare off the bad people who will otherwise kill you because just when you THOUGHT no-one was watching they decided to sneak up and kill you. Right. I get it now.

I wish I had something awesome to say in this, my first ever comment on your blog. Because, see, if I had something awesome to say, I could say that, instead of "thank you for posting this on my birthday because it made me happy."

At least you try hard. I avoid risk, and have a much less interesting blog to show for it.

But here's a horror movie tip: never ever rent anything that the blurb for talks about "a group of friends" no matter what they're doing. It could be volunteering at an old folks home, searching for the cure for brain cancer, or raising money for orphans and nuns, it doesn't matter. No matter what they'll be viciously slaughtered by the end, and you'll be hiding behind the couch. And if you're super unlucky, you'll freak out at a little sound, step on a cat, and find the sharp parts.

Well, you are quite the funny one.. And I can remember my own similar experiences... Trying to lift up a log, and in my mindset at the time, it was nothing more than a twig, I felt like I was superman, then, my dreams crumbled into reality when I couldn't even make the log move an inch. Ah, memories.. You always seem to brighten my day up, Allie. Coming back to something to laugh at after the end of a tough day always helps. So, I thank you for your hilariousness. Don't ever stop being funny, you got a serious talent here. So with this final sentence, I say adieu.

Allie, you are wonderful. You make awkwardness and humiliation so endearing. Was your dance class called Modern Dance Techniques, and were you asked not to be in the final recital because you were so terribly stiff and robotic? Because if you were, we have uncannily parallel lives.

Your blog is like a drug, and the drug is so good that you want to share the drug with everyone you know, but deep down you realize that the drug is also bad because you spend your entire day staring at a computer blog and not peeing and that can't be good, but the drug owns you so you read it and share it anyway and fast forward two years we're all in Blog Rehab sweating and vomiting.

I am fairly sure that you some how invaded my brain for this post. Along with not being able to watch horror movies, I did once try to jump over a "fence" consisting of 2 concrete posts and a chain. In some horrible unlikely twist of fate, I ended up tearing a 9 in gash in my shin, and had to make a tourniquet out of my shirt and limp back to my grandmother's house to receive medical attention. In other words, I sympathize.

Once I jumped over a stone wall at my super smart cousin's house (she married a millionaire with stone walls around his house, sweet!!) into thorn bushes. Bleeding, I continued tearing around the house trying to outrun and generally outawesome all my male cousins when I came to another stone wall. What did I do? The same thing. What happened? More blood. Now I have matching giant scars on my thighs. The FRONT of my thighs. No short skirts for me. (And those were the only things keeping me from doing Beyonce-like dance moves!!)

I always had thought that the crazy crap that goes on in my head made me original and alone, like, y'know, one of those super cool arty hipsters. But every post from you makes me feel like you have a window inside my head... And I'm excited to not be alone anymore, but sad that my Urban Outfitters wardrobe may no longer fit my newfound personality. You complete me. Let's jump over fences together... In our heads, of course.

From your illustrations, clearly you have seen me dancing and watching scary movies... I LOVE your blog. I am the world's worst scary movie watcher, according to my husband, precisely because I look EXACTLY like your drawings while doing so...

To think it all began with Hostel... I love your blog btw. Keep the good work! I know it's not easy but you should post more often, you always make me laugh. Hugs and hope you have a lovely week, you sure deserve it.

Dear Allie, Please stop writing your blog. You are too funny for normal people like me to handle. Your relate-able events are related so well that it causes people like me to think they are funny and start their own blog. They are not funny. I am not funny. Signed, Jenna

I sang in public once. I'm still in therapy about it. Thanks for being as neurotic as I, and sharing your pink-bedressed neurotic self with us all, to remind us that we, the slightly-crazy, are not alone.

Probably if you were wearing the sequen covered cape that was in your Gloss post this week the dancing part would've gone over much better because everyone would be distracted by the sparkle effect! Hehe.. I love you Allie...I promise not to stalk you though - not because I don't want to but because I really don't have the attention span for stalking and Montana's a few hours away. Keep the posts coming!!!

i love this= so true. i am the same way with horror movies- but generally don't get past the creepy dvd menu. then i take it out and ask myself why the hell i thought this time i could handle it. thanks for making me laugh today!

I am constantly imagining myself doing things that I will never dare to do. Dancing is one of them. Believe me when I say that my not dancing is doing everyone a favor. Mostly, I think about things as I pass by them on the street. For example, I wonder how far I can get if I snatch that Twix from the street vendor's display without paying. Similarly, would anyone notice if I just grabbed one of those cases of Dr. Pepper just sitting alone on a dolly behind a parked van? How many poor children would I be hurting if I just took a handful of books from the donations box? My conclusion to most of these inner questions is usually this: I am terrible. I'm terrible even when I do do the things I think of doing. My own mother has told me on several occasions that I get my singing skills from her, and that is not a compliment. I still do it, of course, but I am glad I have someone to keep me grounded. Otherwise I might delude myself into trying out for American Idol. I once thought of trying out for America's Next Top Model, even though I have no modeling dreams or even talent. I just wanted to be the one in the House that laughs at all the drama and takes nothing seriously (where are all the smart people at, reality TV?). Also the first thing I would do when I got in front of the camera would be to say, "I am here to make friends." So in conclusion, sometimes I do things and sometimes I don't. I guess.

I often have the same weird expectations. Like, I firmly believe that I should be able to just lift up my girlfriend and just . . . place her elsewhere if I see fit (I'm a weakling girl myself, and she is, you know, the weight of an adult human). And so sometimes I just kind of grab her around the waist and really really expect it to work and of course it doesn't and I'm disappointed every time.

Or sometimes I'll be walking along and the idea that I should do a cartwheel pops into my head. I've never done a cartwheel, I failed gymnastics as a child, and I'm certain if I tried I would kill myself or at least snap both my wrists off. But I just get this urge to start running and then flip ass over teakettle and somehow land on my feet again. It makes no sense whatsoever.

Hehe that happens to me all the time. I'll be like 'I can do it!' And then I'll do it and people laugh at me. Sigh. I'm the same way with horror movies. I can't look at a huskie without seeing a lot of blood and ugly European vampires. I also can't look out windows at night.

Oh. My. Gosh. I'm the same way! Seriously, you want to know what a scary film is? E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial! That thing gave me nightmares the first time I saw it when I was five, and it STILL gives me nightmares to this day!

And don't worry Allie, I'm sure Beyonce is jealous of your sexy take on her moves ;) She wishes that she could get low like that :P

This is me with karaoke. And all the things mentioned. But especially karaoke. Though I never voluntarily put myself in a situation where karaoke will besung, it is sometimes unavoidable, and I invariably come to believe that should I sing, despite past experience, that I will sound the way I do in the sower or car, and NOT a more female William Hung.

I think I died laughing at that first set of illustrations. XD Man, if you are not a horror movie veteran and decide to randomly watch one, Hostel is pretty much the worst choice. There is absolutely no plot to that movie, just violence and gore. It doesn't even pretend to have a plot like the Saw and Final Destination movies do, it's just gore. I feel your pain. Same with the singing-in-public thing.

Allie, you make my day. I watched Pet Semetary at 14 and proceeded to sleep with the light on every night for the next six months. My last attempt, in 2002, watching Event Horizon, resulted in me checking the bathtub for bleeding-eyesocket women for weeks.

Look at least you tried. I've found as I've grown older that the things that were easy as a kid no longer. I don't bend over as much, I rarely get down on all fours. I can't move around on my back as well. Squirming and climbing are difficult.

True Story: I made my husband check under the bed, and in every closet in our house, two nights ago because I was CERTAIN that this creepy weird guy who had been walking up and down our street all day, had some how gotten in and was waiting until I fell asleep to kill me. I facebooked it... so I can proove it! This is not an unusual thing. Horror movies are COMPLETELY out for me. Also... I have a scar on my leg from attempting to "jump-climb" a chain link fence with drunken "friends" at age 22... AND... AND... if you ever heard me sing... you would be Julie and I would be you. I am that sure you are *that* much better. At this point... I think you sneak into my life and then watch me... Laugh YOUR ASS OFF... and then think, "Ah HA!". Time to blog about it. :) You're so awesome... LOL!!

We just want you to know that you're fucking awesome. Your illustrations kill us every time and have sent us all into fits of hysterics. You should make a shirt with the last two panels of you in the mud, the front and back kind. We'd buy them instantly. Your awesome!!!

we did try to warn you.I absolutely love the scary, but I wouldn't go near Hostel. I tried one time and pretty much had the same reaction as you. I turned it off and decided to watch the Exorcist instead.As for the thinking I can do something and then trying it. Nah. early in my childhood I learned a lesson I won't forget . And that message was that gravity is not my friend.

" There was no point. I'm sure that the decision was based on some scrap of reasoning, but in retrospect it seems that chaos and unbridled impulsivity just collided randomly to produce a totally unexplainable action with no benefit and all consequences. "

Hahahaha this is SO me whenever I'm drunk! I believe I am some kind of super-woman and/or gymnast and can do amazing feats of awesomeness...then I wake up in the morning and realize that, no, I am neither of those things. And I'm sore because my body remembered who I really am hahaha

Ah, I am not alone! I have the achievement of making people's ears bleed when I sing (though its not too embarrassing as all my friends are equally talented as I in the vocal department) and my dancing is abysmal. At prom I was all 'No I'm not dancing like a ho! I'm going to dance like an AWESOME person!' and proceeded to dance in what I decided was an 'awesome' fashion- it consisted of the most awkward arm-flailing, boob-jiggling, leg-waggling and body-waving imaginable, all at once. I convinced my boyfriend (who had by then learned to accept my oddities) to try dancing like me, and he proceeded to do so. At the end of his pathetic, half-hearted attempt, he said, in a somewhat strained voice, 'Dancing is about moving your body with the music. This is ... not natural'

I totally want your "DANCING!" picture on a t-shirt. Because that's how I look when I dance...I flail my arms and, if I'm lucky, nobody gets hurt. But usually I get hurt. I've managed to injure myself TWICE while dancing to Weird Al Yankovic's "Everything You Know Is Wrong". So not only am I a flailing stick figure with no sense of grace, I picky ultra-nerdy music to dance to.

Anyway, if I can wear this on a shirt, maybe people will stop asking me why I'm not dancing at parties.

You are the epitome of awesome. I'm thisclose to kidnapping Boyfriend and dressing up in his clothes and asking you to marry me (we'd have to do it in Iowa or California or something... damn Illinois laws...).

Beyonce might be able to go low, but if you do the sexy velociraptor dance, you'll totally beat her.

Also, I totally understand the scary movie leading to paranoia. I get the same way except I totally believe that my blankets are forcefields and I'll never be killed if I hide under them. You should watch creature features like Jaws. At least you can go 'Damn, it's a good thing I don't live near an the ocean.'

Whoa, this blog just brought back a repressed memory. No, not one of THOSE memories, just a weird one.

I was on a date my freshman year of high school in 1996 will my then-boyfriend Bill. We went to the movies and saw... "SCREAM." (Yes, that was the start of the whole horror franchise that pretty much died with "H20," bleh).

I was scared. shitless. Seriously. I was SO freaked out for literally a week. And then... I became obsessed with it. TOTALLY obsessed. I went to see it like 3 more times in the theatres, and then when the DVD came out... Oh man. I had practically the entire movie's dialogue memorized.

Was it because it was a spectacular cinematic masterpiece?

Nope. Turns out I had a ginormous crush on Neve Campbell but didn't realize it was a crush until I was 21. This is what happens to little suburban lesbians when their parents force heteronormitive-ness-ess (WTF is that word???) on them... They become obsessed with someone under the impression she is just "a great actress" (and sorry, Neve, you're hot, but great actress, you are NOT)...

I am the exact same with horror movies. The other day I actually "A Haunting" on the discovery channel. Now every time my child has a funny look on his face I freak out for a second that he might be possessed.

I haaaaaaaaaaaaaate scary movies, but my husband loves them. And one night he peer pressured me into watching a Nightmare on Elm Street movie with him saying that he'd protect me. Fast forward to 3 hours later and we're laying in bed: him fast asleep and snoring, and me hiding every bit of myself with the covers except for my eyes which are WIDE with unadulterated terror. I am completely convinced that Freddy is literally about to walk through my bedroom door and eat me. (Or whatever it is he does.) If only I could work up the courage to reach out of my comforter cave to turn on the lamp, because the light keeps the monsters away, you see.

If the internet was crayons you would be Win-colored. If you were a computer you'd be running on Win-dows. If you were a season you'd be Win-ter. You could not be made of more win if your mom had swam through the Sea of Win, covered herself in Win pheromones, and gotten herself impregnated by the most winning specimen from a tribe of horny Wins to conceive you. If you were an actress you'd be Win-ona Ryder. If you were a cartoon you'd be Win-nie the Pooh. When you tripped and fell it made me win-ce. If you were a power source you'd be a win-dmill.

Seriously. I don't care what some stupid contest says, you totally win the internet. I hear they're gonna rename it the Win-ternet in your honor.

Allie, I realize nothing is more enticing than telling someone 'not' to do something, but unless the prime objective is to kill us all with laughter when you post about it, please do not try dancing on a stripper pole.

Love, love, love your way of looking at the world—and we're looking back with lots of smiles and laughter!

I'm getting faster at posting comments! YAY!I completely understand this need to do stupid things that prove nothing! I did a heel-click move off of a slippery edge on the campus of the university I was attending and I completely wiped out in front of all my friends and the guy I was on a date with. SO EMBARRASSING. And why did I do it? Because I wanted to be badass.That is all.

I think this might be my favorite post to date! I also have almost the exact same reaction with horror movies, except instead of just making the right decision and turning it off or leaving the theater, I sit and watch as my brain liquefies into goop made entirely of terrifying images that will only appear when I am in a dark room by myself.

I think I see it as some sort of challenge, like how some people eat an entire tablespoon of cinnamon, or drink an entire gallon of milk in an hour. As soon as part of my brain says "OH GOD I CAN'T DO THIS" another part says "WELL DAMMIT YOU'RE GOING TO, YA PUSSY!" And since I don't want the cool side of my brain to think I'm a pussy, I sit and watch.

I then find all the similarities between myself and the people being attacked/maimed/killed/tortured in the movie, which only makes things worse. Such as when I was younger and I watched the movie signs. That night, I realized that not only does the attic open into my room (perfect for aliens to come get me), but the way my window looks out at my garage is shockingly similar to the way the little girl's window looks out at the farmhouse, which is where they see the first alien. Which is why my bed is no longer next to that window.

The worst is when you watch a scary movie in which bad things happen during the daytime and/or when the lights are on. Because then nothing is safe ever, and even though you previously assumed that the photons in the light killed any and all bad things (such as ghosts, crazies with knives, or zombies) that may be living in the closet/under the couch or bed/outside your window, now you know that the crazy zombie ghosts can attack you whenever they want to.

Long story short, I relate completely to this post. You're not alone!

I probably could have saved like 6 paragraphs and just written the above statement, but those were some pretty good paragraphs. I regret nothing.

When i was in grade 4 i tried jumping over a boulder in the school yard because no one else could jump over this fuckin boulder. So i ran, took a big leap AND... hit my foot on the boulder and broke it.

Ha! I do the same thing with foods or activities I hate. I forget why I hate them and assume there must be no good reason, and even though I know I will have a miserable experience decide to remind myself of what the pain feels like.

I'm really not sure why I feel the need to share this, but if you took picture six, turned the person on her side, closed her eyes, and added a about six friends watching like normal people, that would be me the last time i tried to watch a scary movie... I even ended up accidently punching my boyfriend in the nose and they had to physically pull me out of the fetal position... not a proud moment... but maybe you feel better about yourself now! :)

Wow, this may be the first of your posts that I didn't identify with myself... but my husband is the boy Allie of this post! Eerie. (I started typing this on facebook and realized that would be stupid, because he might not recognize himself as the boy you and there might be consequences).

Your car situation with your friend is almost identical as to what happened with my dad and I on our last road trip. Me trying desperately to bond, and him not understanding at all what was going on. Awkwardness ensued.

Every one of my car-singing experiences wind up that way. Sometimes, even, the montage moment happens, for a couple minutes. Then the other person will stop singing and I'll be thrown completely off, not knowing how to handle it.

Anyway, great post! I just discovered your blog a few weeks ago and have been skimming the archives since. I love your drawings.

I actually adore horror movies, but I'll tell you what gets to me: Unsolved Mysteries. All I have to do is hear the theme to that horrible show and I start freaking out. And yet, like you with horror movies, I convince myself that this time I can totally handle it.

Wow. It's like you're inside my head or something. Like the time when I thought it was an awesome idea and could certainly have no adverse consequences to throw a brick straight up in the air, repeatedly. Granted, I was trying to knock something out of the air, but still, a brick? I'm gonna end up in a darwin awards book, I just know it. Yay for being ADHD.

Ooh, Julie! Crazy Wheat Thins Julie! I love recurring characters. (I guess...this being your life...people will tend to show up more than once. Right.)And I totally have the same deal with horror movies. But nowadays even the DVD menus creep me out enough that I reconsider watching (sometimes).

And your attempt to dance reminds me of my attempts at public speaking. (And socializing in general.) I always think THIS time I will be great and breezy and funny and forget the history of painful awkwardness.

Julie reminds me of some "friends" I used to go camping with. I figured out after about a year that they kinda didn't really like me but maybe felt sorry for me and that's the reason they dragged me along. Now I only associate with people who ACTUALLY like me, not that I HOPE like me. I have more friends now than I used to, go figure!

This is amAHZing, and I think both "DANCING" and "No...I wanted the opposite of this" belong on T-shirts. Preferably on ones already in my closet, but if you have to start them from scratch I'd understand.

I am also the exact same way about leaping before looking either forward (literally) or backwards (in my memory) and your roommate sucks for not chiming in IMMEDIATELY.

First off, my punctuation and grammar are probably going to make your eyes/brain bleed, but PLEASE try and look past that so we can be friends. You won't regret it.

I love reading how weird you are, because it makes me feel so much better about myself. I am very much like you, and I've decided that you are pretty amazing which means that just maybe i'm amazing too, even with my psychological oddities.

I fear I may have discovered you a little too late. You are getting dangerously close to winning the internet, which may be good for you, but for me it means my delusions of us becoming friends are getting more and more ridiculous. Like, today I tried to be your friend on facebook, but was told you have too many friend requests. I had already planned out my speech "oh allie brosh? Yeah, she IS super funny. we're friends" I would probably mumble "on facebook" so I didn't feel like a big fat liar, but still, you get the point.

This.rocks. TWO POSTS within days??? Love it. Thanks for brightening a week of massive paper writing.

Also, I find I overestimate my ability to do things like cook, and decorate my home. "Fettucini al fredo from scratch? No problem..." Or "Wow that is the PERFECT color for curtains for the door. Yeah that'll really make the room 'pop'..." No. It just looks terrible and then I return to the store, again, to return things, again, and slink dejectedly back to my car reminded that I have no domestic abilities and should just give up. But...the upstairs window COULD use some curtains too...

This made me cackle until I cried, and then my mother asked, "Can I tell you about this cool thing or are you too out of control?" because I was cackling so uncontrolably. I definitely think it's because I can relate, but you make it sound much more awesome, or at least amusing, than I feel like my silly little quirks really are (I crash into things or trip over them while performing some ridiculous feat of AWESOME rather often. Or I just trip over cracks in the sidewalk).

This is every moment of my life. Even just saying words. In my head my intended response or point of conversation is all intelligent and fancy, but when said it's all warblgarbl as if I maybe had some kind of stroke.

Oooooomg that last fence jumping experience totally happened to me. Except it was a chain that blocked off this driveway at my middle school. And I was training for hurdles (bad idea, all around). Anyway, I decided it would be SO FUN AND AWESOME to practice on the chain. My back leg totally caught and I went face first into ::pavement::. I definitely had scars on my cheek and chin for over a year.

You know what also sucks? Listening to a song, thinking you know all the words and then getting to a bit where you realise you only ever listened to the first half of the song. And then having to stop singing because you don't know anymore of it. And everyone notices.

I think the difference between you and beyonce is that she apparently had her right leg sugically relocated to the left side of her body and now has two left legs. Also, congrats on your first celebrity guest!

Prior to reading this, I had had the exact same experience with the horror movie attempt. Before: "Sure, Mom, I'd love to watch a scary movie with you!"After: "Mom... Think maybe I can hang out in your room tonight? And the next?"After reading your post though, I feel so much better & I'm quite happy to know I'm not the only one who thinks they can tackle scary movies only to be terrible disappointed. :) Keep writing, your posts mean so much to so many people just by being a guaranteed laugh even on the worst days.